


Observations

by days4daisy



Category: Dominion (TV)
Genre: Alternate History, Don't hate me Becca Thorn, I could not decide on a ship, Mac or Mack?, Multi, SO ALL THE SHIPS, an excuse for more Ethan, basically Michael looking at stuff, past canon divergence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-07
Updated: 2014-07-07
Packaged: 2018-02-07 19:35:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,414
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1911162
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/days4daisy/pseuds/days4daisy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Yes, Michael knows Ethan Mac. He knows him because Alex does.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Observations

**Author's Note:**

> A collection of scenes. Heavy spoilers for Dominion 1x03: Broken Places.

Yes, Michael knows Sergeant Ethan Mac. It is his duty to know all officers of the Archangel Corps, but this is not the reason. He must understand their strengths and weaknesses, to designate the best man or woman for each mission without hesitation. This is also not the reason.

Monitoring the Archangel Corps is Michael's day-to-day task. Monitoring Alex Lannon is his life's greatest responsibility.

He knew this when he convinced Jeep it was in the boy's best interest to find his own way in the world, to make himself a man without the sheltering presence of a father. Jeep never agreed, and while Michael does not regret his decision, he regrets rendering it so coldly. Alex suffered, as Michael knew he would. But Jeep suffered too, tortured by the absence of the boy and the tattoos on his skin.

He watched from his perch as young Alex wandered the streets of Vega, clutching his hungry stomach, tear tracks crusted on his cheeks. The orphanage provided little shelter or supervision. He saw the boy huddle in back alley doorways until he was kicked away by store owners. Watched him get into fistfights with other abandoned children. All of this made Alex strong.

It also made him stone, cold and cruel. Michael watched the boy's fights become longer and more vicious, for no other purpose than the delight of drawing blood. He saw Alex steal more than just food, taking what he wanted because it made him feel strong. Alex purposefully bumped shoulders with well-off folks in the street. He cursed at the guards who beat him when he broke the law.

Soldiers dragged him into confinement many nights, to 'teach him a lesson.' Only, confinement boasted better conditions than the streets or the over-crowded orphanage. Alex acted out often, his aim to be locked up as much as possible. His back became a graveyard of fading lash marks.

Michael considered bringing Jeep back into his life sooner. Maybe he had been wrong. Alex was destined for military service, but Michael assumed he would reach that point with his mind and soul intact. Maybe Michael had misunderstood human nature. The breach between son and father-figure seemed too violent to be endured. Perhaps a parting such as theirs could only create evil. 

His discouraging thoughts made him think of Gabriel and himself. Hadn't they, too, being torn cruelly from their Father?

While Michael weighed his options, Alex cornered a young man in an alleyway on the streets below. Alex held a crowbar, his intentions obvious. The young man, in contrast, held a sandwich. Cheese and wilting vegetables on flatbread. He regarded his attacker with bemusement.

Alex lifted the crowbar to strike. The man smiled. "Hungry, huh? You can have it if you want." He held out the sandwich without a fight. "I'm hungry too. No one's full around here unless they're V4 and up. Stole this one out of the back kitchen. But I can manage a snack before dinner. You look like you need it more than me."

Michael watched young Alex's struggle between his desire for blood and food. Warily, Alex took the sandwich and dropped the crowbar. He dove into the meal ravenously. The sandwich barely had flavor, but Alex did not mind. He could not remember the last time he ate bread of any kind.

"What's your name?" the man asked.

"None of your fucking business," Alex ground out through a full mouth.

"Mine's Ethan," the man replied, as if Alex had offered a cordial response. "Hey, when you finish that you should come with me."

Alex's glared at Ethan, murderous. "I'm going nowhere."

"Easy, tiger," Ethan said, laughing. This was not a reaction Alex was accustomed to getting to his anger. "I'm off to practice. Training for the service squad. It's not glamorous, but it's a living, you know? Three meals a day. You should come!"

Michael watched this unexpected development with a tilted head. Alex was destined for the service, but this was not part of his plan.

"I'm a fucking V1, dude," Alex muttered. "Can't walk into the corps and ask for a damn job application." The sandwich was gone, polished off in seconds.

Ethan shrugged. "I'll vouch for you."

Alex's eyes narrowed. "Why would you do that?"

"You know how to fight," Ethan replied, as if this made the most sense in the world. "Not interested?"

Alex was very interested. He didn't give a shit about the security of Vega, but three meals a day and a bed were luxuries a V1 could only dream of.

"What's in it for you?" he asked suspiciously. "I could've killed you, you know."

"Yeah, but you didn't. I killed _you_ \- with kindness!" Ethan grinned. "But I’ll let you come along. Consolation for getting beat."

"You didn't beat me," Alex argued. But it was true, he supposed. His crowbar was on the ground, unused and unwanted. He felt a twinge of embarrassment.

"And hey, I could use a friend too," Ethan added. "If you want."

Alex definitely knew the guy was on something then. A friend? Alex hadn't had a friend since he was abandoned on the street.

And trying to rob a guy didn't exactly make him buddy material... "What the fuck is wrong with you?" Alex asked finally.

Ethan chuckled and threw an arm around Alex's shoulders. Alex's instinct should have been to punch his lights out. He didn’t like when people touched him, it usually meant they were trying to start something. But, caught off guard, all he could do was stare. His confusion was obvious.

"We'll get along great," Ethan decided. Before Alex could come to his senses and act, Ethan yanked Alex out of the alleyway and towards the training school.

Michael watched Ethan laugh at the skeptical guards manning the door to the facility. His arm was still around Alex’s shoulders. The boy was pale and dirty from wandering the streets, but Ethan embraced him like a brother. 

"Come _on_!" Ethan pushed with a grin. "You know as well as I do, if a V1 is physically capable you can't keep him out of training."

"He isn't registered," the male guard muttered.

"It's protocol," the female guard echoed. "Set by the archangel and General Riesen. And he's too young."

"Fuck this," Alex muttered, ripping away from Ethan's arm. His expression was savage, but there was an unfamiliar hurt in his eyes. "I told you, V1s aren't good enough for these people. V1s can't do anything for Vega. They're scraps." He pounded his fist on the registration table. "Right!? I'm good enough to mop your shit, but I'm not good enough to be a soldier? Fuck you, and fuck you."

Alex turned his glare on Ethan. "And you? Stay the fuck away from me." He turned to leave.

"Well, fine! If he's not good enough, what am I doing here?"

Alex froze. He looked back with disbelief and something edging on alarm.

The two guards barely blinked when faced with Alex's verbal barrage. But they jumped to their feet at Ethan's declaration. "You've completed too much of the training, Mac," the male guard argued. "No one drops out halfway."

Ethan shrugged. "First time for everything."

"What are you doing?" Alex asked. He meant to sound more forceful, but his words came out as a stunned whisper.

"Michael will hear about this," the female guard warned. "And the general. Training is a privilege, not a right. Your skills are for the service of Vega alone."

"Sure," Ethan said, clearly not moved.

"You'll get the whip for sure," the female guard added. "And there are grounds for charges of treason. Death. That what you want?"

"I want you to let my friend train," Ethan told them. He backtracked to where Alex stood and clapped a hand on his shoulder. "If you won't, I don't belong here." He looked at Alex and smiled. "Let's go, huh? We're better than this."

"Are you out of your mind?" Alex hissed. "You don't even know me!"

"Let's go, kiddo," Ethan said again, urging Alex to the door. 

Ethan was just reaching for the handle when the male guard's voice shouted, "Stop."

Alex's heart leapt into his throat. The tone of that one word told him all he needed. Somehow, by an inexplicable fortune, he was being admitted to service training. If he passed, he would become a V2. His entire life would be different.

He cast a cursory look at Ethan, whose expression was calm satisfaction. The guy never doubted that the guards would give in to him, did he? Alex had underestimated him in that alley, something about him was dangerous. Whatever his motivations, Ethan was strong enough that the guards couldn't risk losing him, even over the gross realization that they were admitting a V1 into the V2 rank.

Michael watched Alex's guard slip for the first time in years, softening into wary gratitude.

***

He saw Alex's violence focus itself in training.

His rebellious streak continued - it was no secret that he left Vega often on short, personal missions. But training took up the energy Alex used to waste on unnecessary fighting. And now that his stomach was full with three meals a day, he did not have to steal for survival.

In hand-to-hand combat, Alex was a class above his peers. In weaponry, he was less experienced due to years of being on the streets.

Michael watched Ethan train him. He stayed with Alex after hours, at the risk of being caught and punished. It was here that Alex learned why the guards refused to let Ethan quit. He was a master shooter. What he lacked in strength in hand-to-hand combat, he made up for with his cunning with a firearm. Ethan was ruthless enough for short range combat, skilled enough for long-range snipers.

All of these skills he transferred to Alex, with no request for payment in return.

Michael watched them walk back to their sleeping quarters many nights, laughing together. Alex grinned more than he had in years, regarding Ethan with the easy leisure of friendship.

Michael gave Alex the difficult upbringing of a fighter. This V2 taught Alex that some people were worth trusting.

***

Michael watched their graduation from service training. On this rare occasion, V2s were given an exemption from their usual rations. They filled the pub with boisterous laughter, toasting ales that tasted like piss but did the job if they had enough. Here, Alex was surrounded and embraced by his new family in arms, no longer a lowly V1 cast out into the street.

"The night is young, ladies and gents," Ethan called. He was double-fisting, barely keeping ales from sloshing on Alex and Noma when he came up behind them and wrapped arms around their shoulders. "You're both too sober for my liking, friends."

"Nothing left for us, the way you're guzzling, Mac," Noma said with a raised brow.

Ethan grinned and kissed her cheek. "Catty, Nomes," he replied with affected hurt. "You're more of a scotch girl, am I right?"

"Whatever we can get without raising suspicions..." Noma smiled at Ethan, then at Alex. "That's the type of girl I am." She stood. "Be right back, boys."

Ethan took her seat and passed Alex one of his ales. Alex took it gladly and toasted him. "I can't believe I'm sitting here," he said. "A V2, man..." After a drink, Alex looked at Ethan seriously. "I don't know how to thank you. I know, sentimental bullshit, but-"

"Bang Noma," Ethan said.

Alex blinked. "Huh?"

Ethan took a drink from his mug before responding. "Seriously, Lannon. You're a virgin, aren't you?"

"I don't... What's it matter?"

"You're a V2 now!" Ethan grinned and put his hand on Alex's shoulder. "I'm not saying it's forever or a week or whatever, but Nomes is cool." He looked over at the bar, and Alex looked too. Noma stood there with some of the female recruits. Her eyes were facing their direction. Alex's direction, in particular.

"I kinda thought Noma had eyes for you," Alex said. As soon as he said the words, he knew they were never true.

Ethan laughed out loud. "God, no. Noma barely puts up with me as it is."

"But...don't you want..."

"Not my type," Ethan explained easily. "No pressure. Just think about it."

Alex looked at Noma again. She smiled and shrugged at him. He smiled and shrugged back.

***

Michael tried not to watch Alex's first time. It was better for him to maintain a respectful distance, allow the boy to reach adulthood in privacy.

But the truth was, Michael was touched by the act. The awkward fun of it, the fumbling innocence of two inexperienced humans laughing and tugging incorrectly at clothes. Kissing each other messily, rolling on the floor in the abandoned room they had found for their revelry.

Genuine curiosity, "You like this?"

Genuine surprise, " _Yeah_. Do that again."

Michael allowed himself to watch the comfortable rapport between them. Noma smiled and cupped the back of Alex's head, guiding him as he kissed her breasts. He moved down between her legs and ran his mouth up the inside of her thighs, through the soft curls around her cunt. She gasped, encouraging him.

With nervous want, he tasted the wetness of a woman for the first time.

When their act was over, Michael watched them lie together, young Alex and Noma. Alex's arm was around her shoulders, Noma's head on his chest. He saw their lazy smiles and the comfortable trust.

Michael could not claim to understand humans, but he knew in this moment that another barrier within Alex Lannon had just been torn down.

 

***

Michael watched Alex pause in his sloppily readjusted clothes just outside the dorm doors. He kissed Noma and promised he would be back as soon as he found Ethan. 

"Boys club? Really?" Noma rolled her eyes, but her smile said it was all in fun. Alex grinned and gave her ponytail a tug.

He started on his way, shooting her a look when she gave him backside a final smack. Noma just shrugged her innocence before returning to the dorms.

Alex searched the halls for his friend, no doubt eager to tell him all about his night. Michael watched him wander blindly, led only by the connection between them. It was this connection that took him to a hidden corridor that none of the other recruits would have located. A hidden hallway, abandoned by guards and security cameras.

There, Alex found Ethan kissing the neck of another man. Ethan had the young recruit's shirt rucked to his chest, his hands exploring skin while his mouth feasted on the jaw.

Alex did not make a sound, but he was still noticed. The recruit saw him first, sucking in a breath. Ethan turned seconds later. His eyes were an unreadable darkness.

But when he recognized Alex, they softened. "Hey," Ethan said. His swollen lips turned upward in a smile.

"Hey," Alex replied. It took a moment for the shock to fade.

When it did, Alex nodded, and his mouth twitched at a corner. He left them alone without another word.

***

Alex was assigned to the Archangel Corps. It was destined to be so, ever since he was a child. Ethan and Noma were assigned there as well. This was not destined, but Michael made it happen without a second thought. 

He would have made it so for Alex's sake regardless, but the truth was, he did not have to exert too much of his influence. All three graduated at the top of their recruit class, it was only reasonable that the finest among the initiates were brought into Archangel Corps.

From this assignment, Michael was able to keep a closer eye on his charge. This, at times, meant earning Alex's ire. He was disciplined for speaking out of turned and whipped after being caught on his numerous jaunts outside Vega. 

“Joy rides!” Ethan called them.

“Boys are stupid,” Noma muttered.

Michael watched Alex's relationship with Noma ease into a comfortable friendship. He was fully aware of Ethan's side sale of goods stolen from the higher castes, an illegal trade he allowed for the sake of V2 morale.

And he watched Alex's heart ache for the Lord of the City's daughter. He pursued her over many months, intimate evenings of quiet laughter and conversation.

Alex put everything on the line one night. He placed his fingertips against Claire's cheek and touched his lips to hers.

Her affection for Alex was plain, as was the conflict of her status and responsibility. Her breaths shook as she broke their contact, her hands on Alex's arms. "I can't."

"Why?" he breathed, staying close to her. "Claire..."

"I can't, Alex," Claire repeated, pained. "You..."

This was all she needed to say. Alex tore away from her immediately. Hurt and anger blazed in his eyes. He backed to the door of the young Riesen's sleeping quarters.

"Wait." Claire reached out to him. "Don’t, please. Alex-"

But Alex was already gone, her bedroom door left ajar.

Michael watched the fury and humiliation work through him. Alex stalked back to his locker and pulled out a bottle of whiskey procured from Ethan weeks ago. At the time, Alex had not known he would have this perfect night to consume it. He fought through the burn of the alcohol, no care for duty or responsibilities. Alex had a post scheduled the next morning. That no longer mattered. Nothing did.

Michael watched Alex drink his fill and stumble out into the hallway. Night had long since fallen on the dorms, and the corridors were silent. Michael considered attending to him under the guise of discipline for his unwise revelry. He knew little of these matters, but it seemed that Alex shouldn’t be alone.

He watched a hand meet Alex's shoulder. "Hey," Ethan greeted. "Didn't know you had the late shift at Riesen. I was at fucking Whele, that place is a freakshow. You know they’ve got a tiger?"

Ethan trailed off when he got a better look at the flush on Alex’s face. His brow rose. "Man... a guy gets graveyard duty once and misses all the fun-"

Alex grabbed him by the uniform jacket and pushed him into the doorway of the nearest office. Ethan hissed, unprepared, and started to shove back. "What the hell, A-"

He could not get the name out before Alex kissed him. Hard. Furious. Desperate to feel something, anything.

Ethan stiffened under him, but he didn't rush to push Alex off. It might have been the shock of it, or the human curiosity.

He eventually placed hands on Alex’s arms and eased him back enough to speak. "What's wrong?" he asked, his concern obvious.

"I fucking hate this place," Alex muttered. His words slurred together in a rage-filled rasp. "I hate Vega. Hate the Corps. Hate the archangel. Hate God-"

"Anything you don't hate?" Ethan asked. Even with his back pinned against a door, he was capable of amusement.

Alex sighed, a broken sound from a wounded animal. His forehead touched the space between Ethan's eyes. When his mouth grazed his friend's again, he was more respectful. Ethan permitted him, but Michael saw his restraint. This was not the same abandon he exhibited the night after initiation with that young recruit.

Alex noticed too. "Not good enough for you either?" he grumbled.

"Jesus, Alex." Ethan chuckled and put a hand under Alex's chin. He lifted Alex's head enough that he was forced to look at him. Alex did so reluctantly, his eyes dark and bleary. "You need this, or you drunk?" Ethan asked.

"Huh?" There was too much in the question for Alex's inebriated brain to process.

"You're my brother, kiddo," Ethan told him. "I won't hurt you. Even if I gotta say no."

Alex closed his eyes and let his forehead sit on Ethan's cheek. "I don't fucking deserve you, man." He laughed, but it sounded more like a cry.

"You're an idiot, Lannon," Ethan said. He rubbed Alex's hair fondly. Then, he stood up straighter and gave Alex a push.

This time, Alex took a step back, allowing him space. "Let's get some sleep, huh? You've got morning post."

Alex nodded. He lowered his gaze, coherent enough to know to be ashamed. When he licked his lips, he could taste something that wasn't whiskey. Something that must have been Ethan. "I'm...god, Ethan, I'm sorry. I'm a-"

" _Stop_ already." Ethan laughed and gave Alex's shoulders a teasing shake. "If you don't, I'll let you go through with it." He leaned close to Alex with an exaggerated leer. "And tell all the boys about how good I was to you."

"Get offa me!" Alex shouted, shoving his shoulder playfully. Ethan laughed again.

Together, they stumbled back to the dorms, friendship somehow intact. Michael watched all of this.

And he watched Alex wake the next day, with new confidence. He completed his shift without complaint.

After, he returned to House Riesen. With the guard on break, he knocked on the door to the daughter's bedroom without any obstacles.

The door was opened and he was waved inside. Alex smiled, the apology clear in his eyes. "Claire, I-"

Claire put a finger to his lips. "Don't," she said. Her tone said all she could not put in words.

Yes, he was a V2. Yes, she was the daughter of the Lord of the City. No, none of that mattered. Not anymore.

She closed the distance between them, Alex's face held in her trembling hands.

***

"Well, well. What do we have here?" Michael watched Alex catch the little blonde girl in the corps' sleeping quarters. She had found an apple in Alex's bunk, an apple that she now held in shivering, under-fed fingers. A knit cap was pulled over her wispy blonde hair.

Starving as she was, the girl had already taken a bite out of the apple. It would have been wiser to steal her goods and run. But Alex remembered his own days of hunger, his mind numbed to danger by the need to survive.

"Please, sir," the girl whispered. She curled up beside his bunk and wrapped her arms around herself. The partially eaten apple was tucked inside the folds of her bony limbs. "Let me keep the apple."

"What are you doing?" Alex asked. He bent down to look at her more closely.

She flinched when he was within three feet and curled tighter into herself. An explanation was unnecessary. Alex knew she expected to be beaten.

His mind returned to his his teenage years, the times he tried to fight. Other times, he knew he was outnumbered and out-sized. There was nothing to do but make himself small like this girl, shuddering furiously as boots clubbed his body.

"Hey." Alex put what he hoped would be a gentle hand on her shoulder. But for this girl, there was no such thing as gentle. She tried to scream, but it came out a gasp. Her eyes squeezed shut and her thin arms shook.

But still, he noticed, she did not give up the apple.

Alex smiled and removed his hand. "I won't hurt you," he said. She did not lift her head for a good while, no reason to trust him.

When she finally did, her suspicion was obvious. "Why not?" she asked.

He looked at Ethan the same way in that alley, Alex realized. In that moment, he finally understood.

"I need a friend," Alex replied. He sat on his bunk in front of her, giving her safe distance. "What's your name?"

She was not comfortable enough to uncoil from the floor. But she did dare to look at him more closely. "Bixby," she said.

"I'm Alex," he told her. "Keep the apple. And take this."

Alex reached to the other side of his mattress, dipping his hand beneath it. This was a place he was sure even Bixby's little thief hands were too scared to reach, or perhaps too respectful. In the small space between the mattress and the bed frame was a packet of crackers. A luxury unimaginable for a V1.

He handed the whole sleeve to Bixby, whose eyes widened at the riches. "I- I can't," she protested, trying to hand it back.

"I can get more," Alex assured her. "You're my friend. I want you to have them."

Conflict shivered on Bixby's face. "I...don't know how to be a friend," she admitted.

"I didn't either," Alex said. He patted her head, and this time she did not shrink away from him. "Someone had to teach me. And I'll teach you. Don't worry."

Michael watched Bixby smile like the luckiest girl in the world. Freed from responsibility for one sweet moment, she became a child again and jumped to embrace him. She, unlike Alex, was fortunate enough to experience the goodness of humanity early. Her heart was not yet buried under years of protective stone.

Michael approved of this, in secret.

***

Michael watched his corps on their daily missions. They were given assignments around Vega, some menial, others of the utmost importance. They stood guard in the houses of the Lord of the City and the Senate. Kept peace at Saviorism services and the annual jubilee.

He watched his squadrons sweep the areas outside Vega. Battles were waged between the strongest of Vega's V2s and Gabriel's cast of 8-balls.

 _Why do you toy with me, brother..._ Gabriel's voice beckoned him like a lover. Michael closed his eyes.

That was when the 8-balls struck in force. The siege was masterminded by his brother, carried out in savage chaos by the flesh-bound creatures.

Their disorganization made them easy to isolate, but it also made them unpredictable. Michael looked on as the soldiers battled. Firearms and grenades blasted in the desert sun. Any tool made of metal that could pierce skull was used.

The corps were valiant and skilled, but the 8-ball attack was well-mounted. They swarmed in an endless parade of black eyes and veined faces. 

"Jesus, they keep coming!"

"Command, do you copy? We need back-up ammo. Do you copy? Command, answer me-"

"Hold your lines!"

Michael looked upon the carnage, the desert floor just beyond the wall stained red from loss of life. The cries and screams of human casualties filled his head. He shook it, dazed.

 _Gabriel,_ he called. _Why do you hide in the shadows? Come to me if it's blood you yearn for-_

 _Oh no, dear brother,_ Gabriel whispered within him. _The blood I yearn for is not yours. I will destroy these creatures you love. Every last one of them. Watch me._

Watch me...

Michael descended from his perch on high, his wings carrying him with speed to the desert floor. He landed amongst the battle, his swords in hand. There, he fought alongside the mortals. He felt their blood as his blood, their fear as his fear.

"You idiot! What the fuck did you do!?" In the midst of the chaos, Michael still heard him clearly. His neck twisted as he searched the crowds.

There - the city gates.

8-ball bodies blocked his path. Unfortunate beings. Michael did away with them with little effort. His only strain was the time it took to discard of his enemies. 

The corps had created a human barricade at the entrance. There, Michael found Alex and Noma. Side by side they stood, firearms at the ready. Their expressions were dark with fury and fear.

Behind them, within the crowd of their soldiers, was Sergeant Mac. His side was pierced through, blood soaking rapidly into his uniform and the sand at their feet.

"Goddamn idiot," Alex whispered, voice shaking. Michael glanced at Ethan and noticed his unsteady smile. He did not need to ask what had happened.

"You," Michael signaled to two officers in the entranceway. The whole squadron turned to stare at him, as if just realizing he was there. "Get him inside," he said, motioning to Ethan.

Michael looked at Noma, then Alex. His gaze remained there. "He will be fine," he said.

"How do you know that!?" Alex hissed. It was the fear talking. He had already mourned a father. Mourning a friend was more than his mind could accept.

"I know," Michael replied. He returned to the battle, unwilling to waste time or energy on the argument he knew Alex desperately wanted.

***

He was right, though. Ethan was fine. It was a painful wound, but despite the blood loss no vital organs were touched. With medical care and time, he would be as good as new.

Alex did not want to hear this, even as Ethan smirked at him from the hospital bed. "You _know_ I own you at close range. Why would you get in front of me like that!?"

"You can't fight something that's gutting you," Ethan said. His voice was tired, softened by the numbing drugs in his veins. 

"I can't owe you more debts, you hear me?" Alex demanded. He meant to sound strong but his voice broke. Relief, that was what Michael heard. 

Ethan smiled and closed his eyes. "Don't you have a shift?"

"Yes, don't you have a shift?" Michael kept his expression passive when Alex jumped, startled by his presence. 

"Some things are more important, don't you think?" Alex muttered sourly. He got to his feet and right in Michael's face. A desire for the whip, perhaps. To numb the guilt from his friend's injury?

"Get outta here, Alex." Ethan sounded amused. "'m tired of your face."

Alex didn't want to relent, but he knew he could not argue. He cast one last glare at Michael before going to Ethan's bedside. "See you tomorrow," he said, giving his friend's hand a squeeze. Then, he sighed and left. 

Michael remained where he was, looking at the bed. Ethan's eyes cracked open wearily. "Sorry, archangel," he murmured. "Alex's right, I was stupid. Didn't keep my eyes open..." As he was having trouble doing now.

Michael stepped slowly to his bedside and looked down at him. For a moment, he pondered. Then, he leaned down and kissed him briefly.

Ethan was subdued by the drugs, but he was still aware enough to start with surprise. "Sir?" he asked.

Michael appraised him with an even stare. "That is how they say 'thank you' in your culture, is it not?"

"In my culture?" It took Ethan a moment. He grinned widely when he understood. "Really? That's what you...?"

Ethan trailed off when he realized Michael was not smiling back. The face of the archangel remained solemn, tilted in the faintest show of inquisitiveness.

Ethan cleared his throat. "I mean, um... Sure, I guess," he replied. A wince accompanied the words as he tried to shift to a more comfortable position.

Michael rested fingers over his eyes. The touch eased Ethan back to stillness with a shuddering breath.

When Michael kissed him a second time, he lingered long enough to appreciate the soft pressure of his lips. Ethan sighed and responded gently, neither asking for more or less. When ready, Michael stepped back from the bed. Ethan's low-lidded eyes drifted over him. A silent question, perhaps.

Then, his gaze disappeared behind his lashes, the numbing medicines finally claiming victory. Michael quietly exited the room.

***

Yes, Michael knows who Ethan Mac is. He watches Ethan fumble through awkward questions about how he's sweating, is Michael sweating? _Do_ angels sweat?

All of this is a waste of Michael's time, but he is patient enough to wait. He knows the sergeant. An approach of this nature has a reason, no doubt an important one. His motivations have been the same ever since he met Alex Lannon in that alley years ago.

"Alex is a good kid," Ethan insists. Precisely where Michael knew this conversation was headed. "A little hot-headed, sure. But if you've sent him away somewhere..."

Michael's eyes narrow. "What makes you think that?"

Ethan looks confused. "No one's seen him for twelve hours. He didn't report for his shift."

The conclusion is obvious. "He's left the city," Michael says, a statement not a question. He should have known.

Ethan's eyes widen with concern when he realizes he assumed wrong. "You mean...you didn't send him?"

Michael is gone before Ethan can complete the question.

In his flight, he casts a last look down at the city. "Thank you, friend," Michael says. Then, his search for the Chosen One begins. 

*Fin*


End file.
